Kiss the Cook
by Red Warrior
Summary: Seriously, cooking was supposed to be a break from the constant fighting and huge stress the mercenaries were experiencing each and every day. Now Oscar wasn't so sure.


**I just have waaayyy too much fun writing about those guys. I'll never tire of this :)**

**Enjoy!  
**

**KISS THE COOK**

A cake. A simple cake. It would certainly be known as the easiest thing in the world for a mercenary. It involved no killing, no slaughtering, no bleeding (unless you _really _didn't have a cue) of any sort, and no skill whatsoever. The most dangerous weapon you can brandish is a butter knife, and your apron would have to be your solid shining armor. You go ahead, and only fear pointy pieces of eggshell and flour in your eyes.

Seriously, cooking was supposed to be a break from the constant fighting and huge stress the mercenaries were experiencing each and every day.

Now Oscar wasn't so sure.

* * *

"Slow down! You're stirring it too fast," the paladin warned. "It's going to pour out."

"Oh… like this?" Tanith consequently slowed down her stirring, peeking over at the floating vegetables. It was true, they didn't move as much anymore.

"Much better," Oscar nodded, a smile on his gentle features. "It's not a fight, you know, there's no need to move so fast. You need to relax." He had told her that over ten times already since he had begun giving her cooking lessons, and that was… two days before.

The deputy commander of Begnion sighed. "I guess," she mumbled.

Oscar nodded and went back to roasting a chicken over the fire. When he was sure the food wouldn't fall off and into the ashes, he sat back on the ground and peeked at his apprentice.

Tanith was sitting on a log, her back straight, her hand firm as it stirred the soup. Her cold blue eyes were glaring at the soup, almost angrily, and her shoulders were square as if she was expecting the carrots to jump and attack her savagely. To Oscar, it seemed she was fighting more than she was cooking; she hadn't even taken off her armor, for Ashera's sake! Did she really think potatoes could bite?

"It must be okay, now," Oscar spoke up softly. "Put out the fire, and we'll take the vegetables out."

"Understood." Tanith retrieved the wooden spoon from the pot and set it beside her. Then she reached for a small bucket of water that was sitting near the fire. Her frown remained, but inside she was smiling. She had made some soup. To anyone it would seem useless, but to her it was a great improvement! Now all she had to do was pour water over the fire, take out the vegetables and voilà! She was almost done.

Almost.

Tanith bent to put out the fire. She tilted the bucket to one side, but with that gesture, the back of her right hand fell flat against the burning pot. The falcon knight gave a gasp of surprise and pain, and the bucket fell from her hands; in her haste to cradle her injured hand, she knocked the pot over, and its content spilled on the ground along with the water from the bucket.

Oscar was on his feet immediately; he quickly picked up the pot but once he peered inside, he saw the only survivors of the massacre were a carrot and some drops of soup. Once he was sure the fire was put out, he crouched in front of Tanith. "Are you okay?"

"I am all right," the woman muttered. "But… the soup… I…"

"Don't worry, as long as you are all right, everything is fine. Show me your hand." The green-haired paladin gently took her right hand and inspected its back. A glowing red mark was spreading on the soft-looking skin. "This is a nasty burn. We should let Rhys take a look at it."

"It's nothing serious, really," Tanith mumbled. It was clear she was more concerned by her last failure than her hand. Oscar could see it in her eyes; she was angry at herself. That what was was wrong with her, she couldn't learn from her failures because she couldn't accept them. If she so much as acknowledged she had been wrong, she would improve her skills. But the falcon knight just pushed her mistakes away and acted as if they had never been there.

_I have to show her cooking can be nice… but how? _Oscar thought to himself. _She has to start trusting her abilities. _The young man began cleaning up the mess thoughtfully, glancing at his female apprentice. _I have to find something easy and nice to do… let's see… I used to make cakes when I first took a liking to being the mercenaries' cook; I guess it could work for her, for starters. _

"Yo, bro!" Oscar raised his head to see his oldest younger brother jogging over to him. Boyd had a training axe strapped across his back and a cheerful smile on his face. Oscar couldn't help but wonder what the green-haired warrior looked so happy about, but he didn't ask that out loud.

"Hello, Boyd. Done training so soon?" he asked casually.

"Yeah… well not exactly, but Titania didn't believe me when I said that I had already trained this morning and I ran away before she could chew me out," Boyd admitted sheepishly.

"You trained this morning?"

"Well… you see, there was this poor little kitten and it had lost its mother so I-"

"Did you train this morning?" Oscar asked his fidgeting brother once again.

"Well… no?" Boyd answered, wincing.

The lance knight sighed. "I'm so telling on you."

"Don't you dare tell Titania! She's already out hunting for my blood, cut me some slack, man! I've been on watch duty last night, and I couldn't get an eyeful of sleep so I slept this morning because I couldn't feel my brain!" the warrior growled.

"It's because you have _no _brain, Boyd," Rolf giggled from his perch in a tree where he was carving arrows.

"Shut it, peewee!" Boyd shook his fist at the young archer but got hold of his anger. "Anyway… I came to check up on you, y'know, see what you were doing. Cooking so early? It's only about five, and we eat at eight most of the time."

Oscar couldn't help a frown; his brother's cheeky grin gave him a bad feeling about all this. Boyd definitely never just came around to _check up _on him for fun, and much less wondered why he was cooking early. The warrior couldn't care less about that, or at least he made it seem that way.

"Yes, I decided to start cooking earlier today, so I can train a bit longer," Oscar skilfully lied. He wasn't about to tell his younger brother that he was giving Tanith cooking lessons; he wasn't so sure the deputy commander wanted everyone to know she couldn't crack an egg to save her life, let alone Boyd.

"Uh hu… By the way, did you know today is Shinon's birthday?" the green-haired teen smirked. When Oscar looked startled, Boyd chuckled. "I got Gatrie drunk last night and he told me that. I bet old Gats is the only one Shinon has ever told when his birthday is; well, not anymore."

"So that's the reason you're grinning like that?" the paladin asked, more than a little relieved.

"Sure is. And you can be sure I'll never let him forget today," Boyd grinned.

Now seeing no danger in his brother's acts, Oscar let himself grin as well. "Go easy on him, we wouldn't want him to murder Gatrie."

Then something clicked in the back of Oscar's head. A birthday… he could teach Tanith how to make a cake! It was easy, quick and it could be fun too. _I should have thought about that first before trying anything else. _"Do you think Shinon would like a birthday cake?" Oscar asked out of the blue.

"A cake? Ask me if the mercenaries would like a cake, instead," Boyd laughed. "Shinon would probably say he doesn't like it and leave it at that. You know how he is whenever he feels he is the centre of attention." Oscar had to admit his young brother was right; Shinon always grumbled when someone did something nice for him. When Ike had a brand new silver bow made to replace his old broken one, the sniper had taken the weapon and inspected it under every possible angle, before telling the young general that although it was much heavier and stiffer than his old bows, it would have to do. Far from being offended, Ike had smiled, recognizing Shinon's way of saying "thank you".

"Well, it was nice talking to you, bro, but I must be on my way," Boyd said, cutting through Oscar's reflexion. "I must talk to Ike about… stuff. See you later!" The broad-shouldered warrior gave his brother a wave and jogged away.

Lost as he was wondering what the hell had gotten into Boyd and whether Shinon would like a cake or not, Oscar never noticed Rolf climbing down the tree and running up to Boyd.

* * *

"What was that all about?"

"What? All is fair in war… by the way, you heard what he told me? He said he was cooking early but he was giving that falcon knight-"

"Tanith," Rolf corrected.

"-cooking lessons! My own brother lied to me, I feel used!" Boyd whined. But soon he dropped his act and grinned. "See how well my plan went? I knew a birthday would make Oscar think of a cake, and teach her to make a cake! I'm soooo winning our bet!"

"Let's not go overboard here. He never mentioned he was going to teach her," the young archer countered.

"He _thought _it. I saw it, in his eyes, when I was talking to him. He went all silent and he even glanced at her. Don't you realize, the first thing he thought about was _her_! I knew he was searching for something easy to cook to teach her – poor Oscar, she's really hopeless – so I told him about Shinon's birthday. I was sure he was going to think about a cake, and I was right!"

Rolf blinked, speechless. "Wow… that's actually smart…"

"I'm a genius!"

"Who are you? What have you done to my big brother!" Rolf asked seriously.

"What do you mean, peewee?" Boyd growled.

"_Boyd _and _smart _are banned from being heard in the same sentence, bro."

"You little," Boyd began, but he kept his cool. "That's not important. We'll see who is the smartest when I will have won the bet."

"Yeah. Say, Boyd," Rolf winced a little, scratching his head. "Is today really Shinon's birthday?"

"Of course not!"

* * *

"Okay!" Oscar exclaimed cheerfully. "Do we have everything we need? Flour?"

"It's here," Tanith answered, patting the whitened sack.

"Eggs and sugar?"

"Here. I still can't believe I carried the box without dropping the eggs," Tanith sighed, glancing at the small closed box.

Oscar shook his head, amused. It was now only one hour after the soup accident, and the paladin had convinced his female companion to give her cooking abilities another try with the birthday cake. She had agreed, albeit reluctantly at first. Now here they were, in the cooking tent, with their ingredients on display in front of them, on a table. Oscar had put some wood under the oven behind them, and a good fire was purring by the time all the ingredients were ready.

He had convinced Tanith to drop her armor and her gloves. The deputy commander was now standing next to him, in plain brown pants and a white sleeveless shirt. To the paladin's – pleasant – surprise, she had also left her forehead band in her tent; her soft brown hair was resting gracefully on her nape and shoulders, but also in front of her blue eyes, which seemed to annoy her because she constantly brushed strands of hair from her face. Oscar had no problem with her hair band; why had she taken it off?

Brought back to the task at hand, Oscar took a bottle from a shelf. "And here's some milk. Now we only lack…"

"The flavor," Tanith pursued.

"Right. Here," Oscar said, handing her some sort of clothing.

Tanith took it hesitantly. It was bright pink; not pale, not dull, bright pink. And when she unfolded it, she realized it was an apron. And it had flowers drawn on the front.

"Is something wrong?" Oscar asked when he saw her staring at the apron for thirty seconds without blinking.

"What? Oh! No no, I was just… thinking…" Tanith held the piece of clothing in front of her as though it was a cat with two heads. "It's very… um… _pink_." That was an understatement. The apron was so pink Tanith had the impression it was shining in the tent, almost hurting her eyes.

"Oh… does it bother you? I've got a white apron here." Oscar held the white fabric up for her to see. "Want to switch?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter, don't bother-"

"Nonsense," Oscar smiled, taking the pink apron and giving her the white one. "I like that apron. Actually, it was Commander Greil himself who bought it in one of those rare moments proving that he had a funny bone. He hesitated between pink and yellow."

"And he eventually chose the pink one," Tanith chuckled, accepting the white apron.

"Not really. He bought both and gave Boyd the yellow one," Oscar laughed. "He said that Boyd spent more time washing up as punishment than training."

Tanith then laughed. It was the first time Oscar heard her laugh for real, until then it had only been polite smiles and small chuckles. Now the deputy commander was laughing happily, and boy did her laughter sound good to his ears! It was light and regular, clear as a waterfall.

"I never saw your brother wearing it," Tanith laughed.

"He never does! He hates that apron, I don't know what he made of it."

"What a shame." The young woman eventually regained control over herself and tied the white apron around her waist and her neck. When she looked down, she noticed someone had written something on the apron, in big black bold letters. Kiss The Cook. "Oh dear Goddess…"

"Hm?" Oscar raised his head and chuckled when he saw the inscription. "Mist wrote that once while I was wearing it. She said she found it funny."

Tanith gave off a small sheepish smile. "Well then, I'm not sure I should be wearing that, I am not what normal people would call a "cook" I'm afraid."

"Oh really?" Oscar asked, smiling, as he finished tying the apron. "Does that mean that you cannot be kissed?" The green-haired paladin realized what he had just said as soon as the last word left his lips; Ashera's bones, what has he done? Did he just imply that… ? He risked a glance over at Tanith; the woman was busying herself with sorting out ingredients, but Oscar could see her nervousness. He decided to end it. "Erm… so… the flavor… I know most of the mercenaries like chocolate, but… let's forget it, I'm not going there."

"What do you mean?" Tanith questioned.

"I mean I know only one place where we can get chocolate, but… it won't be pretty. I tried once and… wait!" Oscar ran to the entrance of the tent, wheezing past Tanith who just stood there, dumbfounded.

Outside, Sothe was walking with his hands deep into his pockets, trying with all his might to ignore Tormod's never-ending whining on how Calill refused to teach him new spells and that he was a skilful mage and that his feet hurt and blah blah blah… He liked Tormod, really liked him, and had even come to think of him as his best friend… but when the scarlet-haired sage went on a whining streak like that one, the young thief found he could have very powerful homicidal urges. He knew Tormod was bored; he was, too, but at least he had the decency to keep it to himself.

"Boys!" Sothe raised his head at the call. Tormod did too, and the young sage guffawed upon seeing Oscar standing there wearing his pink apron and beckoning them. Sothe rolled his eyes and strode over to the paladin, dragging Tormod with him.

"What do you want?" the green-haired boy asked, doing his best to be sociable.

"Could you do me a favor?"

Sothe eyed him up and down. "I don't take orders from pink apron-wearing men."

Oscar smirked and took a gold coin from his back pocket. "Could you reconsider?"

The teen's eyes glinted and he did his best not to snatch the shiny rounded object. "I just might… what was that favor you were talking about?"

"Could you two go and get some chocolate from Ilyana's tent, please?" Oscar asked, his hands on his hips.

Tormod and Sothe both took a step back. "C-Chocolate? From… _her _tent? No way, nuh uh, I'm not doing it!" the sage squawked. "I'm not going into her tent while she's there!"

"Then make her leave her tent for a while, or whatever," Oscar shrugged.

"How are we supposed to do that!" Tormod asked, alarmed.

"You two will find something, I'm sure you won't disappoint me." The boys groaned, but the insisting glint of the golden coin was persuasive enough to send them on their way. This was better than doing nothing.

* * *

This was highly unusual, Ilyana decided. Soren almost never lent his personal belongings, and yet he had willingly given her his book on anima magic when she had asked. She wanted to take up on Wind; Lighting was good, but she felt that she should be more prepared than that, even more so since she had begun using staves.

So here she was, sitting on her blanket in her tent, Soren's book laying open in her lap. Her thoughts were not entirely devoted to the ancient language written on the pages; some of them were focusing on a certain dark-haired sage. He was so cold to everyone; she gathered that much from talking to the mercenaries. But he had never been downright mean to her, not even that day at that fort when she had first met the mercenaries.

It had been raining cats and dogs and she had been soaked well before she even caught sight of two young men fighting off knights. The first one was tall and blue-haired, and his sword was dancing quickly under the crying sky. The other one was smaller, with long and soft-looking black hair. His right hand was raised and ancient language was rolling off his tongue easily. Between wind blades and fireballs, the knights didn't last much time.

Ilyana had been shivering in her drenched shirt and skirt when the two young men had stepped up to her. She was freezing, her Lighting tome was wet, and she couldn't think of a worse way to die. Yet as she waited for death, a hand fell down on her shoulder, and she had looked up and into Ike's soft blue eyes. The new commander had smiled down at her, albeit a little sadly, and asked her if she was ill. Ilyana couldn't remember what she had told him: she only remembered the warmth of Ike's cloak as it was deposited on her frail shoulders and Soren's voice as he guided her to Rhys. He had asked for her name along the way…

"Ilyana!"

The lavender-haired sage blinked and raised her eyes from the page she had just spent the last fifteen minutes looking at. Soon enough, Tormod's face peeked through the tent flap. "Oh so you're here!" the youngster grinned.

"Yes… what is it?" she asked, cautiously closing Soren's book.

Tormod waved a piece of paper around his head. "Guess what I found!" he said in a singsong voice.

"The last page of your Inferno tome?" the young woman tried, shrugging.

"Nope. I suspect Oscar's horse to have eaten it, though. Maybe it will be burping up fireballs… now _that _would be fun!" Tormod straightened himself. "No, I found something much much _much _more interesting. Still don't know?" When Ilyana shook her head, Tormod unfolded the slip of paper. "I just want to let you know I found it in Soren's tent."

Ilyana was still puzzled; Tormod cleared his throat and began speaking in a loud booming voice, reading the paper. "From: Soren, To: Ilyana. _I thought love was only true in fairy tales, Meant for someone else but not for me, Love was out to get to me, That's the way it seems, Disappointment haunted all my dreams. Then I saw your face, now I'm a believeeeeeeeer!" _Tormod had shouted the last bit out when Ilyana had launched herself at him. The boy turned heels and took off running, still reading loud enough for everyone in the camp to hear.

"Tormod! Hand that over!" Ilyana growled, giving chase.

"_I'm in love, I'm a believer, I couldn't leave her if I tried!_"

"Tormod!"

The two magic users ran away from the tent. Once they were at a safe distance, Sothe jumped from behind another tent – by the smells of it, he'd say it was Boyd's – and jogged up to Ilyana's tent. It was a brilliant plan Tormod had come up with, he had to give him that. Now he was free to search and pilfer the tent from its prized treasure: some bars of dark gold.

It took the young thief about two minutes to find a small pouch hidden under the blanket. He opened it and felt the sweet aroma emanating from inside; chocolate. _I'm going to be one gold coin richer in a few minutes. _Sothe tucked the pouch safely in a pocket and exited the tent, setting off to find Tormod.

His running friend soon appeared; the mage jogged up to Sothe and stopped, panting with his hands on his knees. "I think I lost her… damn… she runs fast," he gasped. "So did you get it?"

"Yeah I did," Sothe answered, patting his pocket.

"Good…" Tormod's raged breathing calmed down and the boy dusted off his shoulders. "Let's give it to Oscar and try to forget it. Oh, and let's go to Soren's tent first, I may be okay with teasing Ilyana, but I don't want Soren on my back for sneaking into his personal space."

Sothe, who had begun walking, stopped short. "You mean… you really found that paper in Soren's tent?"

Tormod shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"Never mind… I can't tell if you just messed up someone's love life or if you made it easier."

* * *

"I can't tell if that was brilliant or just plain stupid!" Oscar laughed when the two boys told him how they had gotten the chocolate.

Tormod growled, irritated that someone joked about his idea. "That's coming from a man wearing a pink apron," he bit back.

Oscar just laughed again. He was just too amused by the boys' idea to care about the insult; he just gave the thief and the mage one gold coin each and they were off to resume doing what they were doing before they had been called: walk around in bored circles.

"Okay, so the last ingredient is here," Oscar chuckled, putting the pouch down on the table. "Let's start with the flour, now."

"Understood!" Tanith reached over and carefully picked the flour bag up. "How much will we need?"

"Just fill about two inches of the bowl, that should be fine," Oscar instructed, opening the chocolate pouch to put the dark bars in an iron bowl above the fire. After making sure the bowl wasn't going to fall to the ground while the chocolate melted, Oscar turned around to see how Tanith was doing. Two inches of the bowl were actually filled with the white powder, and the young woman had the bag in her arms, smiling. "Good. That's around the perfect quantity of flour for an average cake. Let's add the sugar."

Tanith nodded and walked aside to put the bag back on the table. Fearing that she would drop the bag, she held it higher against her chest. Alas, her move was somewhat brutal, and a small cloud of flour escaped from the bag.

"Careful!" Oscar warned, his eyes widening a little. "Don't hold it so close to your-"

Too late. Tanith blinked and finally sneezed when the white powder reached her nose. Oscar barely had time to close his eyes – thanks to his squint, that task was made easier – before his face and some of his clothed chest were plastered with white flour.

The two riders were coughing, and it was Tanith who opened her eyes first. "Dear Ashera!" she gasped, unaware of the state of her own face at that moment. The young woman put the flour bag back on the table and ran to Oscar, who was shaking his head to get rid of the flour. "Are you alright? Wait don't move!" Tanith put her left hand on Oscar's cheek to still him and with the other she reached into her pocket to pull out a handkerchief. Carefully, she proceeded to wipe Oscar's face and rid his eyes of the remaining flour.

_Her hand is soft, _was all Oscar could think at the time. He obediently let Tanith wipe his face and eyes, wondering how the falcon knight managed to clean his sensitive eyes painlessly and still be unable to crack an egg.

Too soon for Oscar, Tanith took a step back. "There… it should be alright like that." Oscar opened his eyes and resumed squinting after a few blinks. "I'm sorry, sir Oscar, I didn't mean to…"

The paladin shook his head. "I know you didn't mean it. And please, no sir between us, it's just Oscar." He shook his grass-colored hair. "It was just an accident, let's not fret over it, okay?"

"Alright…" Tanith looked up to ask what they ought to do next, but Oscar's face made her lose her question. His hair was sticking up at odd angles from being rustled and shaken, soft white powder adorning the green strands. Flour was smudged on Oscar's cheeks, nose, and even on his ears. Tanith had to bite her lip to keep from chuckling, to no avail.

"What's so funny?" Oscar inquired gently.

"Your… your hair… it's messy," she pointed out, giving him a small smile. "And you have flour on your ears."

"Do I?" The mercenary rubbed at his ears and tamed down his hair somewhat.

Unbeknownst to the two cooks, two pairs of emerald green eyes were watching them from under the tent flap. Laying on the ground, Boyd and Rolf were struggling to get a clear view of their sibling and the deputy commander of Begnion.

"They are too close," the warrior growled under his breath. "I can't see anythin'."

"At least we know what's going on, that's the only important bit," Rolf shrugged. "And please be quiet, we're gonna be caught if you keep that up."

"The important bit is that I'm eating dirt and rocks just to get a view of Oscar's ass," Boyd complained silently, shifting his chin that was resting on the ground and ignoring Rolf's demand. "At least if it were Tanith's, I'd have something to look at, but I don't give a damn about Oscar's butt." He grunted when his leg was kicked. "Ow, quit that, Rolf! You don't need to hit me, you know."

"I didn't hit you, Boyd."

"So that would be my imagination, right?"

"No that would be me," a voice said from behind them. Boyd and Rolf turned around so fast they nearly bumped heads; Mia was standing right there, arms crossed over her chest. She was glaring at the two brothers and tapping her foot. "So, I finally found out who was sneaking out snacks from our food supplies. Interesting, I wonder what I'm going to do with you two."

"You're mistaken!" Boyd said hurriedly, putting his hands up to prove he was innocent. He ignored Rolf who once again shushed him. "We're not sneaking into the tent!"

"Oh really?" the swordmaster asked, raising one eyebrow. Boyd gulped when she drew out her sword. "Why are you so nervous then?"

"We… we're spying on Oscar and Tanith," Rolf admitted, shaking a little under.

Mia's death glare disappeared and an eager smile replaced it. "Really? Love is in the air! Can I spy with you guys?" Without waiting for an answer, Mia plopped down between the two boys and tried to peek inside. "I only see Oscar's butt."

"Welcome to my life," Boyd sighed.

"Quiet you two! I think they put sugar in the bowl," Rolf said quietly.

Indeed they had incorporated the sugar powder to the flour, and Oscar was pouring melted chocolate in the bowl while Tanith stirred its content. The young woman was frowning, the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. She didn't even notice Oscar had put the iron bowl away and was standing right behind her.

Tanith jumped when Oscar's arms came around her from behind; his left hand grasped the bowl and his right one enclosed over her own, holding the spoon. "You're stirring it too fast," he chided, using the same sentence for the second time that day. "Try making large circles, like that." With his hand over her own, he stirred the brownish mix slowly, in large circles. Tanith couldn't help a blush from setting upon her features, and she was glad her back was to him.

She had always thought her height was average; but now, with Oscar's chin brushing the top of her head, she wasn't so sure. She took her time to watch the hands working in front of her: generously tanned, and a bit calloused, as to be expected. His skin felt good against the back of her hand, his warmth softly spreading into her fingers.

Oscar lingered a bit longer and then pulled away. Hoping to Ashera that her blush was gone, Tanith turned to face him. "Well done," he smiled. "Now we have to add the eggs, stir some more and put it over the fire."

Tanith nodded, taking advantage of her trip to retrieve the box of eggs to clear her mind. She was _not _getting addicted to his touch after only one embrace. Besides, it hadn't even been an embrace at all, he had done it to prevent her from messing up the cake. Yes, that was it.

Tanith picked up the box; but when she opened it to take eggs, she gasped and nearly dropped it. There were four eggs inside, and… a chick! A little yellow, fluffy, chirping chick!

"But… how… how did it end up here?" she babbled.

"What's the matter?" Oscar asked, nearing her. His eyes widened when he saw the young bird flapping its little wings angrily. "What the…"

Mia cackled and put her cheek on Boyd's shoulder. "I wonder who was dumb enough to put a chick in an egg box," she mused.

The warrior threw her an annoyed look. "Thanks," he grumbled.

"Err… I didn't mean it like that!" Mia said hurriedly.

A cry from inside the tent prevented them from arguing longer; the chick had hopped out of the box and onto the ground. It was running clumsily, but quickly, still chirping angrily.

"Quick! Catch it before it goes out!" Oscar instructed, taking off after the runaway bird.

Tanith's mind took a few seconds to register what he had said, but then she nodded and set off to catch the chick. "Birdie birdie!" she called, jogging after it. "Come here! Don't go out!" Just as she thought she would catch it, the fluffy animal turned right and ran under the table. Tanith came to a sudden stop to avoid hitting her head against the table. Grumbling, the young woman ran around the table to resume chasing after the ball of yellow feathers.

Her combat skills allowed her to avoid hitting boxes, chairs and shelves on their way as she chased after the chick. The little bird's freedom lasted another good five minutes as it managed to avoid being caught by either Oscar or Tanith.

But then, as Tanith came around the table for the tenth time, the diminutive nuisance stopped running. "I've got you!" she shouted triumphally, lunging for the bird. But before she could catch it, an empty box fell on the bird, effectively trapping it. Oscar grinned, holding the box, but when he looked up he paled; unable to stop her momentum, Tanith came crashing down on Oscar.

The next second, Oscar found himself pinned to the ground by the deputy commander. His chest was pressed against hers, and their legs were too entangled to try anything like sitting up.

Tanith put her hands on either side of Oscar's head to support herself. "I'm sorry! Are you hurt?" she asked quickly, her soldier side coming up.

"No, I'm not, don't worry about it," Oscar said with a nervous smile.

"I didn't mean to crash into you, sir Oscar, I just wanted to-"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" He looked directly into her icy blue pools. "It's not sir Oscar. It's Oscar, just Oscar. Say it."

"Alright… Oscar," Tanith tried.

"Say it again."

Tanith blinked at the demand. Oscar had sounded… weird, when he said that. She had just said his name, why did he need her to repeat it? Oh, well… "Oscar," she said with more self-assurance.

"Another time."

She closed her eyes. "Oscar," she sighed.

Tanith felt herself being tugged down, and before she could register that it was in fact his hand that was pushing on her nape, his lips were touching hers.

They were kissing, laying on the ground. They were kissing in the middle of the cooking tent. There was flour on the table, on the ground, on them, an egg had rolled out of the box and the chick was chirping. His apron was pink. Hers was white. There was still flour in his hair. He tasted like coffee. They were kissing. They had wanted to make a cake. They were kissing.

Tanith gently pulled away, her elbows now in the crook of Oscar's shoulders. Their noses bumped, and both chuckled nervously. Oscar was about to break the uncomfortable silence, but someone else beat him to it.

"Well, Rolf, I believe this is _my _money in your pocket now!"

Oscar jerked his head to one side; to his utter surprise, three pairs of eyes were looking back at him from under the tent flap. He recognized their owners rather easily.

"Hum… hello bro!" Boyd greeted with a fake grin. "Sorry, gotta go!"

"Hu hu, me too!" Mia nodded furiously.

"Hey guys, wait for me!" Rolf called, taking off after the escaping duo.

Tanith and Oscar were left open-mouthed on the spot. Her arms were around his neck, and his hands were on her hips, and both were still blinking from what they had seen.

"Well… _that _was awkward," Oscar stated. Tanith chuckled and hesitantly put her cheek on his chest. Years of being devoted to Begnion had made her forget how pleasant a man's touch could be. "Come back up there, you," Oscar grinned.

When she raised her head he gave her another kiss, which made her smile. "We have a cake to make," she reminded him, trying to avoid being too formal or business-like with the man she had just kissed.

Oscar groaned. "Can't it wait?" he whined.

"I'm afraid not."

"Alright." They struggled a few minutes and eventually managed to stand up on their own. Oscar did his best to dust flour off his apron. "Cooking can be so annoying at times," he sighed.

"Actually, I think it's pretty interesting," Tanith smiled at him.

Oscar was about to tell her their points of view were the exact opposite a few hours ago, but he just chuckled.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He walked up to her and gave her cheek a soft peck. "Kiss the cook indeed."

* * *

Shinon never knew why he was greeted by a cake when he came back from getting water at the river. Nobody told him, even when he asked; Kieran just shoved him enthusiastically in front of the large chocolate cake that Gatrie had just put on the big table they used for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Tormod lit the few candles adorning the black surface and the bloody idiots gathered around the table began singing some sort of stupid song about presents and age.

He had never had cake for his birthday; hell, he had never celebrated his birthday! Ever! He wondered what the hell they wanted him to do with the candles. What kind of merry stupid ritual was this? He briefly wondered if that was some kind of sick joke, and he considered strangling everyone present, but then Titania was there as well and she usually was rather sane. _I should just run away. _

Soren never knew why Ilyana was eyeing him rather than the cake. He wondered what had gotten into the white-robed mage, but he soon found her attention pleasant. He made sure she thought he was unaware of her staring, and resumed looking at the mercenaries cheering Shinon on.

Nobody could tell why Boyd was counting gold coins on the table, or why Rolf was grumbling and kicking rocks angrily.

Nobody knew where Oscar and Tanith had gone. Kieran claimed his eternal rival was cowering away from him, plotting a cowardly scheme to overthrow his perfect defence – to no avail, mind you. Marcia just shrugged and said that while Tanith was away, she couldn't bother her, and that was fine by her. Had the new couple, walking around the camp holding hands, heard that, they didn't have a care in the world.

Mist jumped and hugged Shinon. Ilyana gulped and walked up to Soren. Oscar gave Tanith a dazzling smile.

Rhys gave Mia an odd look when she started singing _Love is in the air. _


End file.
